


Stringy Nut

by The_Saltman



Category: Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim (Visual Novel)
Genre: British Man, Foul, This is a fucking shitpost fic btw, Vore, Wretched, birthing hips, disgusting, vulgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Saltman/pseuds/The_Saltman
Summary: true horror
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Stringy Nut

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this abomination in May, finally got around to finishing it. This is a shitpost fic, it's awful and weird and bad and that's the point. I was gonna write detailed vore for jokes sake, but I felt physical disgust and just stopped.

One day, Nathan Dialtown Hanover Synthonic Orchestra was going for a walk, when suddenly a lizard dick phone-head popped out and started saying some shit. Nathan waved and said “ello ello!” The green sitched-man screamed and waved, beating his chest. Nathan, slightly unnwerved by the dangling lizard cocks baked teh fkuc up. “Who might ye be den, mate?” Nathan asked the cryptid phone-man. “Phonegingi, me heavilt preganant.” He stated, beatsing hiz cheszt. “Can you take me to the Funfair?” Phonegingi asked, staring the man right in where his eyexs woudfl be. “No m8, I gottsa do some banquet n stuff for alkoholik dogs, y’kno bruv?” The lizard man slapped his nuts and spoke. “Ight, fuck you, Bri ish cumstain. He proceeded to scamper away, screaming in butchered French.

“That was fookin weird as shit m8.” Nifin said, adju sting his siut and making hsi way to do charity shit, y’know? Funy British man proxceeded to make magical cool swag frewsh beep boops for charity. Men, woman, nonbin, and all others stard at Nayfan’s gorgous birthing hips as he wlaked, hos lesg swaying from side to side sexily. Holy Hound, this man was fkukcing hot. Brish people scuk, but Naenaefan Hungdongver is pretty cool, nah hes a liyttle bich, but sitll I think hes neat.

Nthn sson encountered the dog, who was sobbing in a dumposter, eating broken glass. “Ello elo den, God.” “Hello, cello man,” God replied, looking up at him. “Gto any spare chaneg?” Nickham sighed, shaking his head. “No, sorry mate, I done went and right given it all ta charity, m8.” Teh Hobo satred at him for a solid minute, before finally speaking. “Yer kiddin’, right? I’m GOD, surely you have somethin’, even a fuckin’ penny will do!” Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim DEMO LS | Track 10 - Surprise dentist appointment began to plya as our Houndfather girated back and forth, the eyes of the dog on his screen becoming red. He was fukin pissed, he needed to byu booze dammit. The houndmaster proceeded to produce a gun from his rwectal cavity.

Naschlatt, knowking he was about to be shot in teh urethra, beghan spriunting, his asscheeks clapping in the wind as eh ran. Hee passed by the lizzerd dik man, who was harrassing a very scared Nokia-headed man via payphone. The Hound continued chasing him, turningh the gnu sidweays, showing that he fuckong meant bsuiness. This defintebly wasnt Nafield’s day, he was gfeeling very not cash mpney. He eventually duckedd nehind a dumpsrer and promptly shat himself. Ralizing his pants and Union Jack undies were fucking soiled, he promtply removed them and covered hsi phat fnmembo ass with his tiny fkucking hands ansd suit jhacket, whatever teh fuck jts called, yyeah.

Nickelback Hangover phased thru a wall, donning a new pair of union njack undies and pants before strolling back inot twon. God was npwhere in sight, which was both a good thing and a bad thing, as the sky was suddenly on fucking fire. Teh air quality was more polluted and shitty than usual, everything was fucking red, jesus christ oh fuck oh shit, oh no this is not radical. Nuthan proceeded to idle in dowontown-Dialtown. Lizerfd dick materialzed and various dialogue incurred, when suddenly, green man spoke. 

“Wait..”  
“Are you..”

“Bri ish?”

“Yes.” Nasthan responded.

“Even got knoighted for fightin in the Fawkes.”

Gingi screeeched and proceeded to vore the British twink. The lower half of hsi phone-head unhinged like a snak, sucking Natetin in, making a squelching noise as he slid down Gingi’s throat, entering the green creature’s stomach. Muffled noises echoed from the grean creature’s tomacjh. That’s it, I’m fucking done. You want a better ending, you write it, I’m done, I refuse to write any more. If you (for some unholy reason) want to completely copy this and make it better, by all means, be my guest.


End file.
